A Marauder's Cliche
by faerybones
Summary: Fanfiction-obsessed Marley favors the Marauders Era. She could have spent all summer reading stories. But when she and her sister take a tumble down the stairs, she finds her ordinary life is gone, and she has traveled back to a time where Hogwarts is real and the Marauders are alive. But with the author of her story only writing cliches, is this dream world worth living in?
1. Prologue

A Marauder's Cliche

_Harry Potter Fanfiction Parody_

Prologue

"Marley!"

A distant voice down the hall trailed in through my bedroom door, which was open wide enough only for my cat, Mortimer, to come and go. I pretended not to hear my name being called and kept my eyes glued to my laptop computer screen.

"Oh, Marley!" chanted the same voice in a sing-song manner. "Where, oh, where could you be?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Quietly to myself, I said sarcastically, "Gee, I don't know, Stella. Maybe my bedroom? On my computer? The same place I've been all summer long-?" I stopped myself from ranting any further. It was too much energy to waste, and I was conserving it for reading a crapload of different fanfictions full of the same plot and character portrayals as the last ones I'd read.

As the person reached my door, I peeled my eyes away from the story I was reading, feeling a judgmental gaze burn a hole in the back of my head.

"Ever hear of knocking?" I said, reaching behind me to pet my black cat, Mortimer. I stroked behind his ears, and he began to purr.

"What are you talking about? I called your name like ten times. You had to have heard me coming," said Stella, my younger sister by one year. She was the sixteen to my seventeen. "Also, your door wasn't even closed. It was ajar."

I snorted. "Ajar? Isn't that the evil guy's name in _Aladdin_? No. Wait. That's Jafar. So is _ajar_ your word of the day or something?" I reached for my coffee mug, sipping three hour-old, stale coffee. Making a face, I put it down and went back to petting Mortimer whilst reading the terrible, horrible, strangely addictive _Harry Potter_ based fanfiction by some fourteen-year-old girl from Michigan.

"Quit trying to distract me, Mar," she said, taking it upon herself to plop onto my bed next to the cat. "I have a proposition."

"No," I said reflexively with my back to my sister.

"Just—" she sighed, flipping curly strawberry blonde hair away from her pale face, "—hear me out, okay? If you don't, you'll regret it. It involves a certain someone!" She started again with the sing-song voice.

My eyes went a little bit wide. I'm not going to lie; she piqued my interest. But I couldn't let her see she was winning, duh, so, very coolly, I turned to look her in those same pale blue/gray eyes I saw staring back at me in the mirror every day. "Okay. All right. You may propose to me."

She squinted, allowing her coral lips to part ever so slightly. "Strange choice of words, but—"

"You chose them, not me," I interrupted, but quickly added, "but continue."

"Do you want to hear this or not?" she huffed, folding her arms to her chest.

_Not_, I thought. With effort, I had to refrain from saying so. I put my hand up as if to gesture for her to keep talking. I could tell this was going to take a while, so I minimized the window on my browser with the Marauder era fanfiction on it. My hand collapsed into my lap, making a _slap_ sound. My attention was completely hers… except for the part that was admiring how cute Mortimer's little face was.

"Okay, well, you know how the doorbell rang like ten minutes ago?"

"Did the doorbell ring?" I said quizzically. "Hmm."

"Okay, what do you do all day in here? _Read?_" she said, her voice tinted with disgust. "It was Jenna. At the door."

"Bitch Jenna or Little Jenna?" I inquired. I had a unique way of remembering people with common names. There were at least five Jennas in my grade, and five more in my sister's grade. You might see why and how the Marley System came to be. Bitch Jenna was Stella's frenemy. She gave out back-handed compliments like they were Halloween candy, only it happened more than one day a year. Little Jenna was the little sister of—

"Little Jenna," replied Stella with a creeper grin on her face. "She just told me that Jared wants to go bowling tonight, and we're invited!"

At the mention of his name, my skin came close to goose bumps. It was a pleasurable chill. I hoped Stella hadn't noticed, but I could tell she saw right through my nonchalant act. "Oh, yeah? Bowling, huh? I don't—I mean, I'm no good at sport-type things… Bowling is kind of lame—"

"But Jared will be there. In the same room as you. Hanging out with you. In public," argued Stella convincingly. "But if you want me to go tell her to forget it, then—"

I stood up involuntarily, nearly knocking my chair over. "NO!"

A black blur pounced off the bed and thudded against the hardwood floor. I accidentally scared Mortimer off. I watched his tail disappear out the white wooden door of my bedroom.

I realized how embarrassing that was right after I'd screamed it. I collected myself and said calmly, "I can do bowling. Psh. Yeah. I don't really have any… plans…" I stared back at my computer screen, just before it went idol.

Stella, wide-eyed, stood up and headed for the door, as well. "Okay, well, I'll let Jenna know you're in." She gave me a look over, from head to toe and back up again. Her button nose was crinkled. "You might want to, like, shower… and put on some mascara… and something besides jeans and a t-shirt."

I stared back at her, Stella, with her sundress and wedge heels, white headband contrasting light red hair, and cute face with a perfect application of makeup. I then turned my attention to the mirror hanging on my wall and felt grim. "Maybe you're right."

It just seemed like she didn't even have to try half the time. I wasn't the girliest girl. I was more of a tomboy, class clown, sort-of-just-there girl. Nobody cared that I had no cleavage to speak of, or that my eyes weren't perfectly lined with black kohl pencil on a day-to-day basis, or that my skin was even paler than a dead body's. Dramatic, I know, but curse my Irish blood! However, it seemed to work for Stella just fine. Damn it.

"I can help you," she offered slowly. "If you want."

I nodded hesitantly, tucking my own dark red hair behind my ear.

"We better start, like, right now," Stella said, pointing a finger at the ground as she spoke the word _now_. "This is going to take a while."

"Hey!" I said defensively, but then I giggled. _What a little brat_. "Fine. I'll go take a quick shower. Help me pick an outfit while you wait."

"Right after I get rid of Jenna."

"I don't want her to go bowling with us either, but killing her is a bit much, don't you think?" I joked. "It probably wouldn't get me brownie points with her brother, either."

"You're so weird."

_You're just noticing this now?_ I thought, grabbing a fresh towel from my dresser drawer.

"Don't forget to shave your legs!" she squeaked annoyingly, darting off down the stairs to inform Little Jenna of the news.

I bit my lip, holding back a feisty reply. I guess if I chose one day of the week to shave, it would have to be today. I had had a crush on Jared since Kindergarten. He was the cute boy-next-door type, kind of nerdy, but in a hot, hipster way.

Better make that shower a cold one.

"What in the hell-?" I clasped one hand on the towel covering my naked body and used the other to flail excessively. "What is this? What is this?!" I made a wax-on, wax-off motion over Stella, who seated herself in my desk chair.

"I can see why you spend all day reading this stuff," she said, surprise coloring her voice. "I mean, it could use a spell check and some more punctuation, but it does give you some pretty mixed feels—"

"You did not just say 'feels'," I groaned, using my flailing hand to wipe wet hair away from my eyes. "Stay away from the blogosphere, mmkay? No need for both of us not to have lives."

"Well, that's about to change for you, huh?" Stella teased excitedly. "Marley and Jared, sittin' in a tree…"

"Did you at least pick out an outfit, or were you reading on the job the entire time?" I said, annoyed by the personal space invasion.

She looked at me. "Yeah, but I'm not sure if you'll be able to fill it out properly." She held up a sundress similar to hers, though this one was solid black. She had a chunky beaded bracelet with a matching necklace lying next to it on the bed. My face must have shown the distaste brewing up inside.

"Fill it out properly?" I began, and suddenly I felt very self-conscious in only a white towel. I held it tighter to my body. I was a small B cup with narrow hips, but hips nonetheless. Not everyone could have gloriously curvy bodies. In my head, I cursed my sister for being one of those girls. "Who wears dresses when they're going bowling, anyway? This is all wrong." I shook my head in the outfit's direction, then quickly darted my eyes to Stella again to add, "Slacker."

Turning on my heels, I almost ran over Mortimer. His fluffy leg tickled my bare foot, and I yelped. Then I growled impatiently.

"You can wear whatever you want. It's a bowling alley. No one is going to care except Jared," said Stella. She appeared to be slightly offended. "If you don't want my help, I can leave you to your own devices." Her tone implied that my "devices" were extremely limited. She wasn't wrong.

"No," I exhaled loudly, "I can pick the outfit. Just fix my face."

Her eyes slowly trailed across the room. She frowned. "You don't have a vanity."

"Your name is Stella Jenkins," I replied.

Her brow creased.

"Oh, um, I thought we were stating the obvious," I explained, nodding to myself. "We're not doing that?" She rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand.

"Follow me. We need makeup. And a curling iron. The only place we're going to find those things in a time crunch is my room."

Down the hall, I was led to a room I avidly chose to avoid. I stepped inside as if the room was full of spiders. Every step I took forward was a step I wished was backward.

Pale pink walls with off-white trim surrounded me now. I felt like I was inside of a baby blanket… or a stick of bubble gum. Light pink and white comforter, white painted vanity in the corner, white painted dresser, closet, as if nothing changed since she was five years old. Everything was neat and in its place, including two stuffed animals lined up on the perfectly made bed. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought the room actually _belonged_ to a five-year-old. The iPad and laptop lying in the middle of the bed coupled with the knowledge of her true age were the only tip-offs. I shuddered. It was rare for me to go into Stella's room, and in that moment, I remembered why.

"Why do I feel like throwing clothes all over the floor and furniture whenever I come in here?" I said under my breath. She heard me anyway and shot a glare in my direction.

"That probably has something to do with the fact that you are a disorganized freak with psychopathic tendencies," she spoke clearly without stuttering.

I smacked my lips and mouthed a silent, "Okay," as I sat down on the vanity's little bench. The mirror reflected a pasty face with high cheekbones, subtly arched brows, and auburn hair. My collarbones stuck out too noticeably in just the towel, especially with my back hunched over the way it was. I straightened myself up, attempting to use good posture. I quickly gave up and began making silly faces in the mirror.

"Enough," Stella said, picking out a peach powder blush and giant brush. "Hold still. You don't need foundation, not really. I just want to add some color to your face. You look like you've seen a ghost."

I corrected her quickly. "I don't look like I've _seen_ a ghost. I look _like_ a ghost."

"So do I," she said unexpectedly. "But this works for me every time."

I sat still, let her swipe powder on my cheeks, let her take a scary black wand to my eyelashes, and watched as she applied a neutral color combination to my eyelids with fancy-looking application brushes.

I stared at myself, admiring her work. She knew what she was doing. "Looks nice."

"You look pretty," Stella said proudly. "Jared is going to die when he sees you tonight."

"We're just friends, Stella," I sighed. "He's known me since I was two. I don't think he's suddenly going to be swept off his feet with a little blush and some inappropriate-for-bowling dress."

We both changed clothes and waited for my hair to air dry. I decided to wear simple jeans shorts and an orange sleeveless blouse. My usual dainty gold chain necklace hung around my neck. The outline of a cat sitting with its back toward the admirer of the necklace pressed against my chest with as much pressure as a feather.

I sat at my computer, reading some Marauders fanfiction on my favorite website. She sat on my bed behind my desk, reading over my shoulder. Normally I wouldn't allow such irritatingly close proximity, but she was doing me favors today, so it was hard to tell her to leave me alone. Besides, the story I was reading was one of the worst yet best ones I'd read all summer. It had all the clichés and then some. Nobody wants to read original content. They don't want to be surprised. They want to know what's about to happen or pretend they have no clue where the story is headed, silently hoping "this one" is different.

"I wish my eyes could change color with emotion like Charlotte Grimshadow's do," giggled Stella. "Where do they come up with these ideas?"

I wanted to say they stole their ideas from other writers they had read stories from until it became common and unoriginal, but all I did was shrug. My hair seemed to be dry enough, but there was a very sudden knock on the front door downstairs.

"Is that Mom and Dad?" Stella asked, confused.

"Mom and Dad wouldn't knock, would they?" I said rhetorically. "They're still at work. What if it's—oh, God. What if that's Little Jenna, or worse? What if that's Jared? I'm not ready! My hair—"

I had no idea I felt so strongly about girly things until I had to face him in a date-like scenario. Usually it was only through school that we ever saw each other. I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to puke. And die. And be reborn as a sexy butterfly of majesty.

"A sexy butterfly, huh?" Stella burst into laughter and stood up quickly. I flushed, unaware I had said those things aloud. "I'll answer the door. Don't freak out."

"Stella, wait—" I went after her, a million thoughts running through my head. We both weren't expecting what happened next.

Mortimer, the ever-adorable love of my life, was a sneaky son of a bitch. One minute, he's nowhere to be seen or heard, and the next, he silently sneaks up at our feet, stuck there like the root of a tree to trip us when we're walking. Normally, where there's a tree, there aren't stairs to tumble down.

And what a tumble it was. Probably the best of my life. It even went black after I fell. I thought Stella went down, too, but I would not be able to find out soon enough for a very troublesome reason.

I never woke up.


	2. Chapter 1

A Marauder's Cliche

_Harry Potter Fanfiction Parody_

Chapter One

There was a great void of nothingness. Just a blank black canvas behind eyes shut, and when I made an attempt to open them, it didn't work.

After what felt like an hour but was more like a minute, the senselessness ceased. My eyes opened wide, and what I saw made me wish they were closed again. Curiosity got the best of me as I breathed it all in. The room was spinning, and the black void was replaced with whirling blue lights. If I hadn't been so freaked out, I would have thought they were magnificent. But then came the feeling of my stomach dropping to my feet, and I cringed.

Just when I thought I might vomit, everything went still. Silence ensued, save for the sound of my heart beating hard against my ribcage. My eyes had shut again, this time of my own accord. When I opened them, it was all I could do not to let out a shriek.

It was like I was in an invisible bubble for just a moment. I could see through it. I was standing in front of a platform that I knew was only real in fiction. Platform 9¾. It was eerily quiet, but when the bubble popped, the sounds of bustling bodies and the famous scarlet train's whistle screeched.

_I must be dreaming,_ I thought, backing up against a stone wall slowly. _Oh crap. Oh crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap_.

I reached into my pocket for my iPhone. I couldn't find it. Instead, I pulled out a golden pocket watch which ticked steadily in my palm. I groaned frantically. _Who carries pocket watches anymore?_

I searched the other pocket, only to discover I was carrying a small, brown leather coin bag and a long, thin wooden object. I could only assume it was a wand. I opened the leather bag up, expecting to find US currency, but what I saw was at least fifteen golden Galleons. Wizarding World money. I tapped it with my finger and glided my thumb over the intricate design on the heads side. "Doesn't feel like plastic," I muttered to myself worriedly. I whimpered quietly, allowing my eyes to go as wide as saucers. My voice sounded extremely different. Higher, for one. More… musical? Like tiny silver bells. My real voice was quite raspy and slightly deeper than the one that just escaped my lips.

I tried to find a window on the train. Before I could reach it to look at myself, I was halted by an attractive man in his late teens with shoulder-length peroxide-blonde hair, a pale face, and grey eyes.

"My, my," he said, smirking. "What have we here? I don't recall ever seeing you at Hogwarts before."

Before I could shoo him away like the maniac I felt myself becoming, a reply came from my mouth involuntarily. "We're not at Hogwarts. Not yet, anyway."

I covered my mouth, shocked. I tried not to let it show, because if my guessing skills were up to par, I would have guessed this guy to be—

"Lucius Malfoy," said the blonde, extending his hand eagerly. He was wearing black leather gloves and a silver ring with a Slytherin crest etched into it. "And you must be that new American exchange student they told us about. Aria something? What was it?" He whooshed his hair out of his face dramatically, and his black robes flowed around his ankles.

_Oh my God_, I thought. _Did I… time travel?_

"Yes," I said mechanically, that strange musical voice coming out instead of my own. "Aria Shade."

He gave a crooked smile, his eyes going up and down my seemingly taller frame. I furrowed my brows, looking down at myself. _What the heck?_ I was wearing stylish black ankle boots with an extremely short skirt, which showed off legs that did not resemble my pale chicken legs back in, you know, reality. These new legs of mine were sun-kissed, bronze, toned, glowing, and the skirt was black and seemingly vintage. _I definitely time travelled_.

And I definitely had a ridiculous name. Aria Shade? What was I now, half wizard, half vampire or something?

"I'm surprised they're letting you on school grounds at all, what with your condition and all," he said snootily. "I usually only associate myself with purebloods, but for you, Ms. Shade, I think I'll make a generous exception."

I scoffed. He spoke as if he was his own gift to the universe. However, I _was_ curious as to what he meant by my "condition." Was I a werewolf? _Oh God. Please don't let me _actually_ be half vampire_.

Just as I opened my mouth and was about to sarcastically say, "No thanks, Mr. Wonderful," a rowdy group of male voices assembled behind me.

"Oi!" said one of them.

I felt a hand rest gently on my shoulder. I looked at it, confused, and looked up to see a beautiful boy with long brown hair, eyes black as night, and the face of a dark angel. _I don't remember this character being canon_, I thought to myself. _Oh, wait_—

"Is this git bothering you, Beautiful?" he said sincerely. "Get lost, Malfoy. Nobody wants you 'round. You smell like outdated convictions."

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, but no one except for you really cares that Muggleborns are allowed to be taught at Hogwarts. Get with the times, will you?" said another voice.

I brushed the hand off of my shoulder, turning slightly to get a better look at the new voice's possessor. He had dark, messy black hair, black-rimmed glasses that framed lovely hazel eyes, and my _gosh_, he was impossibly attractive, too. _What the actual hell?_ I froze for a moment, looking toward the entire trio. That was when I realized who these boys were supposed to be.

The Marauders.

Dude with the glasses? That was James Potter, aka Prongs. He did resemble Harry, if Harry was ten times more good-looking. And the dark angel was clearly Sirius Black. Padfoot.

I peered behind them both, noticing an American Eagle model-looking boy with sandy blonde hair, healthy physique, pretty eyes, and small scars all over his face. He looked like a Prince of Camelot. In my head, I pretended his scars were the results of battle wounds, when really I knew they were from full moons passed. Moony.

I looked around while they insulted each other publicly. It seemed as if they did this frequently because they were really good at it.

"Well if it isn't Potter and his pledges," said Malfoy, amused. "You three are worse than Mudbloods because you two purebloods—" he pointed at James and Sirius, "—actually defend tainted wizard blood." He sneered their way, waved his hand at them to signal for them to go away, and said, "Now leave us be. We were mid-conversation."

I looked at him as disbelief featured on my face, and said, "Actually, I think the conversation was clearly at its end." I turned sideways, my back mostly to Lucius. I added, "Also, aren't you done with Hogwarts by now? You're supposed to be older than the Marauders. This is all wrong. Who's running this show?"

They all laughed, ignoring me. That was irritating. None of them took my words seriously at all. I guessed I could forgo logic and reason and canon altogether for the duration of this fantasy dream world story.

Malfoy sniffed at me, his nose crinkling as he did so. He said, "Fine. But you're making a big mistake. I suppose it's for the best, though – if I were to be seen associating with a half vampire, my reputation would be in ruins, anyway."

"Well, now, we can't have that," I said heatedly, shooing him off like I'd meant to from the get-go.

On my heels, I turned at the sound of an intelligent voice speaking. Remus Lupin was one of my favorite Marauders. I smiled when he spoke. "I suppose we'd better board the train now, too. It's leaving in five minutes." He pointed at a bare wrist as if to signal to a watch that wasn't there.

"Always on top of things, aren't we, Moony?" said James brightly. He then turned to me and grinned. "We have an empty spot in our compartment if you're interested, erm—"

"Aria," I said unexpectedly. "Aria Shade. And sure, I'd like that."

I _would_ like that, even if the words coming out of my mouth weren't the ones that I'd formed in my brain. It was every fangirl's dream, or at least it was mine, to ride to Hogwarts with the actual Marauders. Considering the fact that they were fictional characters, it could only mean that I was also fictional. That would explain my perfect skin and what I was able to notice about my physique just by glancing at my legs. To myself, I bet that I was stunningly gorgeous. Whoever was running this story I was in seemed to have no grasp on what a Mary-Sue was and how to avoid writing one. I could see flowing black hair curl around my face and down my shoulders. Something inside of me was reminded of the cliché "dark hair like a raven's feathers," but I suppressed that.

"Great," said James. He introduced himself and his two friends, even though I already knew their names. He then gestured for all of us to get a move on.

We walked aboard the Express. I had to admit, it would have been such a magical experience for my inner fangirl if I wasn't still freaking out about everything. I tried not to let it show, though.

It seemed that every compartment was full. _What a shocker_, I thought. _Isn't it always the fact that they're all empty until we reach Lily Evans' where she's reading by herself?_

Wow, I needed to stop reading so much fanfiction. My prediction was extremely dead-on. Through the glass, I saw a beautiful girl with bright emerald eyes scanning parchment-filled pages of a book of spells. Red hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was munching on some fruity-looking candies. She seemed at peace, and I just knew James, Sirius, and Remus (but mostly James and Sirius) were about to ruin her train ride.

But this time, I noticed Lily wasn't alone. A short brunette with skin like snow and hair similar to my own sat across from her. She looked like she could have come off the set of _Pretty Little Liars_. I was hoping to be alone with the Marauders to soak in their awesomeness, but—

"Woah, who's the porn star?" said the pretty short girl who also spoke in an American accent. Everyone turned to look my way. The boys all had expressions that made me want to put drool buckets at their feet. They ogled me, as I knew they had been trying to based on all the fanfiction I've read, but now they had a reason; someone had pointed me out. I wasn't used to the attention, like, at all. I almost looked behind me to see who they were staring at when I realized the pretty girl was talking about me. I must have looked confused and uncomfortable because somebody answered for me.

"Aria Shade," said James. "And you are?"

"Oh, goddamn," said Lily, annoyed already. "Can't you find somewhere else to sit?"

James sat down next to Lily, smiling impishly. "No can do. Everywhere else is full. Just like my heart is full of dreams, dreams of me and you."

She scoffed, burying her head back into her book. "Not today, Potter. I'm trying to get a head start on classes." She rattled the giant book in her hands.

"One of the things I love about you," he said, grinning. He ran a hand through his messy hair, causing it to stick up even more. I refrained from rolling my eyes. Every James Potter I'd ever read had that nervous habit. He also always had the inclination to flirt with Lily in the most obvious and confrontational of ways. In reality, that would come across as stalker-ish and creepy. I winced, being from the world of reality and being fully aware of how uncomfortable the banter was, and sat down next to Sirius. He was seated next to Remus, who sat by the window.

"I'm not a porn star," I said, feeling the need to clear the air with the pretty girl. I made up a lie in an attempt to get her to like me more. It seemed like I was stuck in this situation for a while. It wouldn't be a bad idea for me to make the best of things. Especially since she was sneering in my direction. "Um, everyone in America looks like me, I guess."

"I'm from America, you idiot," said the girl.

"Now, now, ladies," said Sirius, pulling out some chocolate frog cards from his robes. "Can't we all just get along?"

Lily looked up from her book to glare at James at Sirius' comment.

"Who are you again?" _I don't remember reading about a snide short girl in the books_, I wanted to say. "You never said."

"Stel—I mean, Caroline Bludworth," she spattered nervously, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her green eyes pierced through me like two lasers. "Transfer student."

_Yes, because the books often referred to transfer students. Not._

"I met her just outside the train. She seemed really lost, so I'm keeping an eye on her. New schools can be hard to get used to," said Lily, not looking up from her book. I imagined she was trying not to look at James, or else she was trying to forget he was there completely.

"Right," said the pretty girl, Caroline. "New _schools_ are hard."

For some reason, the way she said it made me want to believe she wasn't talking about new schools but of something else entirely. I shrugged away the feeling and went back to trying to have deep conversations with the Marauders.

"So, gentlemen," I began, "Round One of _Get to Know You_. Question One: What's your favorite color?"

It went on like that for a while. I laughed a lot, sometimes unwillingly, as if my creator wrote in my reactions and I played them out like a simulation. Despite the fact that everything and everyone looked so perfect and acted so unnaturally at times, I was having fun. I almost forgot there was something, or rather someone, missing.

"Hey, dudes," I said, patting the back of my hand on Sirius' chest, "Where's Peter Pettigrew?"

They all looked at me as if I was growing snakes out of my hair. Then they just laughed again.

I frowned, annoyed. It was another cliché aspect of Marauders fanfiction, and I was stuck living in it. "There are four Marauders. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Where's Wormtail?"

"You clearly don't know as much about us as you think," said James, half chuckling. "We don't know any Peter Petti-whos or—what did you say? Wormtail? Yeah, we don't know any Wormtails, either."

I looked to Remus for confirmation, my eyes growing dark. And when I said that, I meant metaphorically, but Remus' eyes went wide and said, "Merlin! I thought that was a myth. Your eyes really do change color!"

I wanted to question him, but at that point, Lily said we were almost at Hogwarts and we needed to change into our robes. Which was ridiculous, if you asked me, because the train ride was usually an all day affair. I looked out the window, and even though only about an hour had passed, the sky was full of a mix of pink and orange from the setting sun.

The group herded out of the compartment's double doors, laughing and chattering as they did so. I told them I would catch up, and Remus stayed behind with me. I asked, "What did you mean when you said my eyes changed color?"

I remembered a story in which an original character called Charlotte Grimshadow had eyes that changed color with emotion. It was the story I left off on before everything went black.

He looked up, and shame colored his deep eyes. "I didn't mean to be so rude about that. I'm sorry. I was only surprised. I should have known better, especially since I'm… I'm a werewolf."

Inside I was kicking and screaming, _No! No no no no no! Remus Lupin does not simply admit these private things to total strangers!_

On the outside, my face shown understanding, and I was calm.

"I just never met a half vampire before. Do you… you know… drink wizard blood?" As soon as he said it, he shook his head, realization drowning him. "Sorry. Please, don't answer that."

_There's no such thing as half vampires. God damn it._

"No, it's okay," I said aloud. "I can eat or drink whatever I want. Human blood tastes best, but wizard or witch blood is my next choice. If I was a real vampire, it wouldn't sustain me for a prolonged period of time Only human blood could." Now the words were just coming out of me as if they were being written by a mysterious force and executed by my puppet body. "But don't worry. I wouldn't drink from a werewolf. Or any of you guys, really. I can live off of food and water. I only drink blood when there's a willing donor."

_Oh, gross_, I thought, thinking of the way hot, sticky blood would feel inside of my mouth, flowing down my throat as I swallowed graciously. A new thought came to be. Thirst. _Oh, god, this probably won't end well in the long run_. I pushed the urge to drink back. It was easier than I thought. I was never caught up in the vampire craze the way other girls my age seemed to be. I guess it would have benefited me to read up on vampire lore before unknowingly time traveling to a new dimension where characters in books are real. But shoot, ain't nobody got time fo' that.

"Anyways," I cleared my throat, trying to make the dryness ache less. "I should go change. It's nearly dark."

I made my way out of the compartment when I realized I had no idea where to get my uniform or robes or even which House colors I would be sporting. Sighing, I just walked toward the back of the train and found the bathroom. Luckily, right next to it, there was a linen closet. The door was open slightly. Stacked inside, I saw plain black robes, white button-ups, black skirts and pants, and grey sweater vests. I grabbed one of everything, not really sure which size would fit in this body. I probably wouldn't know until I reached a mirror or tried these suckers on.

Illogically, the bathroom was free, despite the fact that apparently everyone was supposed to have been changing into their uniforms. I rolled my eyes, giving the door a slam by accident. I didn't know my own strength. I guess half vampires were stronger than normal people. _This idea is so stupid_, I grumbled internally.

I set the clothes down atop the toilet seat, which was down, and stopped at the sight of my own reflection.

I hadn't been paying attention to the top half of me. I only knew my hair was dark and long and that I had perfect, glowing, tanned skin. I checked my new body out. There was more there than I knew what to do with. _Seriously, how is that ass even possible?_ I poked it, and my finger bounced back as if I'd poked a spring mattress. _I've got the butt of a hardcore squatter._

I peeled off the tight vintage skirt I'd been adorning and put on the knee-length uniform skirt. It felt so much more comfortable. I felt grateful for the change.

My eyes reached my current dark, revealing blouse. My eyes went huge. Those weren't the only huge things I saw before me, if you know what I mean. No joke, my cup size had to have been well over a DD. I was probably in the F or G zone. And once again, illogically, despite their size, they seemed to be supple and gravity defiant.

"Of course," I mumbled to myself. "Why would an OC have small boobs? Why would an OC have breasts that she could actually fit into clothing?"

I sighed, taking off the blouse that I had on. I laughed, slightly hysterically, outraged. "Oh, it gets better." I was donning a lacy red push-up bra. They looked even bigger without the shirt on. I poked one of them hesitantly, feeling as though I was poking somebody else's body inappropriately. They sure felt nothing like my real boobs. My small, real, perky boobs back in my home dimension.

I swore to myself, disbelief evident on my face. "No wonder why Caroline called me a porn star. No seventeen-year-old should reveal so much of their body like this."

I made a mental note to try to remain decently covered, but admittedly, the white button-up dress shirt that went under the sweater vest wouldn't button all the way up. It was a tight fit. Checking the tag, I noticed it said XL. "Damn it," I groaned. There wasn't another size up. I fastened as many buttons as I could without them busting apart around my chest area. The buttons covered just enough so that the red lace of my bra was invisible. The sweater vest came down in a V around my neck, and my giant ass melons were regrettably popping out.

_This is what the author wants_, I decided. _It's pointless to fight it, then_.

I gave myself a final look-over before putting the robes on. I stared only at my new face, noting my features. I wasn't ugly. That was obvious. _Nobody writes ugly characters,_ I thought. _If I ever get out of this, that's the first thing I'm going to do._ My hair reached my mid-back in perfect waves and curls, which probably wasn't even the style of the Marauders' time period, but the author ignorantly chose to make it that way, anyway. My cheekbones were prominent and high; my lips were full and seemed to be shaped by the gods; and my eyebrows arched darkly over heavily made-up, lightly glowing blue eyes.

_My eyes glow **and** change color_, I thought. _Fabulous_.

I exhaled loudly, grabbing the wand out of my other clothing, and made a mental note to play with it later. I knew that magic wasn't a game, but come on. Who could resist such temptation?

I made it safely back to the shared compartment, but not without hearing cat calls and wolf whistles on the way there. Now that I thought about it, how couldn't I have noticed that my boobs were ginormous? They were like two bustling water balloons attached to my chest. When I walked, they had minds of their own. I knew that was going to get very old very fast.

As I looked inside the compartment, I noticed everyone but Caroline was wearing Gryffindor robes. The two of us wore House-neutral black colors.

"Wow," said Sirius. Remus and James looked up at me, genuinely taken aback, I think. Sirius smirked, gliding a thumb across his mouth nervously. "If you aren't sorted into Gryffindor—"

"You're going to stop speaking to me?" I asked, trying to finish his sentence.

"No," said Sirius. "I was just going to say that I would miss seeing you around the Common Room."

As soon as he finished speaking, I was about to give a mechanical, mundane flirty reply. But a dark figure passed our compartment and backed up to stare inside.

Sirius sighed, clearly bothered by this person's presence. "What do _you_ want?"

A gorgeous (surprise!) guy with hair like Sirius' narrowed his pale yet heavily lashed eyes and folded his arms over his chest, which seemed only slightly less bulky than the seventh years filling the compartment.

"Now is that any way to regard your own brother?" said the boy. He smirked in my direction. I knew how stupid it was, but I kind of melted. There was a dark, rebellious appeal to Regulus Black. I almost wished the author would sort me into Slytherin.

"You're not my brother," said Sirius grimly. "Not since old Walburga sacked me as her son."

"Do not speak ill of our mother," fumed Regulus. It was clear that he was fond of her, but he regained his composure. "I just had to come see it for myself. Two Americans, here, on the way to Hogwarts. It's all anyone has been talking about. Yet nobody said they were going to be so beautiful."

It was easy not to accept compliments, or blush, or feel grateful for them. This wasn't my real body, face, or even species. It was impossible for me to be unimpressed by his words.

"Merlin, you are such a sleaze," said Sirius.

"Yeah, why don't you run along, Reggie," James piped. "Let the adults enjoy the rest of the ride in peace, eh?"

Regulus' face turned cold. He glared at the two boys. "Call me that again, and—"

James stood up, reaching into his robes for his wand. He didn't pull it out, only left his hand inside, touching it threateningly. "And what, Black? You'll do what to me? Please, do share."

Sirius followed suit, putting himself between the boys. Remus, who should have actually been away doing Prefect duties with Lily, sat quietly, not intervening at all. It was totally out of character. I wanted to pull my hair out.

"Just get out of her, Regulus," said Sirius coolly. "With any luck this is the last time all year that we see your smug little face."

Regulus did indeed look smug. "Don't bet on it, brother."

The train stopped suddenly, and I felt the jolt push me into Remus. My eyebrows arched higher as I gasped. "Sorry," I apologized. Remus put away the book that had been in his lap and waved the incident off sheepishly.

I turned to see Regulus storm away, black robes trailing behind him like black, smoky water. I decided in that moment that it would be a good idea to ruffle some feathers between the two brothers, or rather, the thought was written into my head against my will.

_I'm going to end up playing with both of their hearts_, I thought, not evilly, but in a way that the author had to make it clear what exactly was going to be happening in the story. Terrible foreshadowing, if one could call it that. I grimaced, wishing I had a bottle of something to raise into the air and say, "Bottoms up!"

It was going to be a long ride.


	3. Chapter 2

A Marauder's Cliche

_Harry Potter Fanfiction Parody_

Chapter Two

The doors of the Express burst open by the force of magic, and students flooded out into the railway station at Hogsmeade. The Marauders, Lily, Caroline, and I were lined up next to exit, and I held my breath. As soon as the fresh air hit my face, I could see the Hogwarts castle in all its glory.

Candlelight flooded from inside, outside, and around brick walls and towers. Low, misty clouds hung around the castle in the sky, surrounded by stars that sparkled nearly as bright as the waning silver moon. Dark mountains rolled in the skyline, untouched by any other light but the sleeping sun. The foliage surrounding the vast land was mostly in shadow, but I imagined they would shine a vibrant forest green in the hours of the day.

_Now this is the good part_, I thought, soaking the sights in. I was enchanted, charmed, _thrilled_ to be viewing the castle every little kid who read _Harry Potter_ had on their bucket list to visit.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Remus said, noticing that my rosy lips were agape. Oh, right, I was a new student, so it wasn't really weird for me to be staring in awe. "Most of us have been desensitized. Though, every once in a while, when I'm in Hogsmeade, I take a moment to let the gravity of its beauty really sink in."

"Aww, Moony, what a poetic, soft soul, you are," smirked Sirius playfully. He nudged James in the stomach lightly. James smacked Sirius square in the chest, grinning idiotically.

I smiled at Remus politely, who was glowering at his friends, understanding where he was coming from. I thought it was nice, even if he was just saying it to get in "Aria Shade's" pants, which I doubted, because from everything I read online, Remus was supposedly the sensitive one that you just wanted to be best friends with. James and Sirius had to go and ruin our cute little moment. Typical Marauder personification.

"Never mind _him_, Remus," Lily said, starting to walk toward carriages attached to—Oh, good Lord. Were those _thestrals_? They were hideous. They were plain ugly, most ghoulish; they were the strangest creatures I'd ever—

I felt my legs slowly move toward them. I tried to stop walking, but an imaginary force pushed me onward. "Oh," I said softly. "What are _they_?"

_Thestrals_, I wanted to say aloud. I already _knew_ what they were. But apparently my character had no idea.

The author was going to make me touch them. Oh god. Of course I would have to pet a thestral. Of course the freaky half-vampire OC would be the one that finds half-horse, half-bat-looking thestrals unique and beautiful. "They're wonderful."

_No. They most certainly are not_. They looked like horses, if horses were severely underfed, had glowing eyes, creepy dark dragon faces, and had supernatural grace. And bat wings. Can't forget the irony in the vampire being attracted to the weird batty creatures.

"You can see them?" said Lily excitedly. When she realized why I could see them, she spoke again with less enthusiasm. "I mean, I'm sorry. Who did you see… Er—when did that…"

I stopped her, not wanting her to made the situation awkward for everyone. The following words leaked from my mouth robotically. "My Father. He was human. Well, wizard. Half-blood. My Mom accidentally—" I didn't finish. My character refrained from saying "killed him" aloud. I wanted to roll my eyes, but tensions were high, and the author didn't want me to.

"Oh," said Lily, embarrassed for asking.

I reached the thestral with all five of them on my tail. My hand reached out in front of me, and the thestral gave me a quick, gentle nod, almost escaping my notice. That was when the brutal force jeered my arm right at the thestral's skeletal back. I was expecting it to feel rough and cold, like a sequined blouse that was stuffed in a freezer overnight, but this scaly creature felt more like a cold-blooded snake skin. It was the temperature of the air around us, and its body was smooth. My hand glided easily over it, maneuvering around the mane, of course.

"It's lovely," I lied, though my character was really enjoying herself. The others looked at me as I had my moment, smiling along with me. My hand dropped, and I turned around to face them all. "Can we all fit into one carriage?"

I wish I hadn't asked.

"Sure, we can," James grinned. "So long as you ladies sit on our laps, it should be a fine fit."

Lily's eyes went wide, as if she were thinking, _Oh Merlin, please, no_. Then her face wrinkled with disgust at his piggish attitude. "I think I'll take the next one—"

I watched the dispute continue painfully, though I could feel amusement that the author was trying to write into me creeping up like a sickness.

I looked to Caroline, Remus, and Sirius to see how they felt about sharing a carriage. Caroline shrugged, probably happy to be making so many friends so soon. Sirius jabbed Remus in the ribs, eyeing me, while Remus' face shown disapproval of Sirius' blatant disrespect towards me. I tried to cover my only-possible-in-reality-with-major-plastic-surgery boobs by crossing my arms over my chest, but they only fit below my boobs, causing them to pop out even more. I couldn't win.

"Let's just go," said Caroline, bobbing up and down, arching a thick, dark eyebrow. "It's starting to get cold. And I want to know which House I'll be sorted into!"

"So it's decided!" James said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "Now, usually, I would say, 'Ladies first,' but since you are all sitting on our laps—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Lily said, annoyed. "Just get in. Caroline is right. We can't miss the feast over some childish row."

_British words are weird_, I thought, noting her use of "row" in place of "argument" or "quarrel."

The Marauders stepped inside the carriage quickly, ducking their heads and sitting down. Sirius patted his lap like a drum kit excitedly. James chuckled. Remus turned very red before anyone even sat on his lap, probably embarrassed by his friends' poor conduct and at the aspect of having a young woman so close to him.

Grumbling, Lily went in first. James directed her, surprisingly politely, to his lap, yet she sat on Remus, whom she respected academically and was even almost friends with. Caroline shrugged, taking it as an OK to sit atop James. Prongs made certain that his pouts were short-lived, deciding that a friendly, petite brunette with a stunning face and cute body was a good consolation. That only left me with one lap to fill.

The lap of Sirius Black.

I wasn't about to complain about being up close and personal to a Prince Caspian look-alike. I was about to complain about sitting on the lap of someone whose mindset was _oink oink_, _woof woof_.

"I see I'm left with the scraps," I giggled, coating true words with a playful attitude. As I bent over to get inside, Sirius and James were staring down my very full, very exposed cleavage. I wanted to groan or roll my eyes, but instead I decided to stop expecting so much self-control over hormone-ridden teenage boys.

Sirius helped me situate myself on top of him. I was turned sideways to avoid bumping knees with Lily, who sat across from me on top of Moony. I had to clasp my arms around Sirius' neck to avoid jolting forward or backward when the carriage inevitably hit bumps on the path. As a result, my stupid cleavage was all up in his smug yet hopelessly handsome face. When he wasn't looking down my shirt (not that he had to look far or hard), he was eyeing the bum on his lap as if he couldn't believe this was happening to him.

"Oww," I said, stunned. Something hit the side of my leg. "Sirius, can you move your wand? It just jabbed me."

James burst into laughter, and Caroline followed suit. That caused Lily to cave and giggle, which, in turn, made it all right for Remus to chuckle along with the group.

"Yeah, erm," Sirius coughed, "that's not my wand. Sorry."

I wanted to leap out of the carriage then and there and ride the thestral the rest of the way up, but instead, I laughed with the group. Sirius joined in awkwardly, pausing every few chuckles. It was actually kind of cute.

The rest of the ride was filled with mindless chatter. The Marauders and Lily made jokes about professors and kept mentioning how wonderful their final year was going to be. Caroline asked questions when she could get a word in, and I kept mostly to myself. I was trying to get a feel for my environment, learn what I could about the group and about Hogwarts in this generation. I would like to think that in reality, one of them would have asked if I was all right and noticed how quiet I was being. But these people hardly knew me, so it came as no shock (even in this fantasy world where apparently everyone I met cared about me to some extent) that they left me to my own thoughts.

We reached the front of the castle when the carriage stopped moving. Lily was the first to stand up and open the door. I watched her red ponytail swoosh around as she landed on two feet swiftly. She ironed down her skirt with her hands, waited for Caroline, and the two of them left side by side. _So much for being one of the girls_, I thought.

The boys staggered out. James pushed up his glasses and watched Lily Evans trail away. "This is going to be my year. I can feel it." He shot a meaningful head-point in the redhead's direction.

"Prongs, no offense, but she thinks you're a ball of slime, mate," said Sirius in a doubtful tone, adjusting his robes. I stood amid them gawkily, suddenly anxious. I wasn't sure where I was supposed to go from here. Did I follow the first years, who were bunched up in a group by the double doors, or did I walk in with the guys and wait for Dumbledore or McGonagall to notice me?

I didn't need to worry for too long because a middle-aged witch in a tall black hat, round glasses, and green robes came up and almost grabbed my forearm. She decided not to for some reason, pulling her hand back uncomfortably.

"Miss Shade?" said the woman in a Scottish accent. It was definitely a much younger-looking McGonagall. Her voice had less of a rasp, her hair dark black, and her face lined less with age. "Aria?"

_T'is I, mwahahahaha_, I wanted to say with my best Count Dracula voice. Instead, the author made me say, "Yes?" which gave me zero entertainment. It was about to get boring now. If I was right, I was going to be plucked up and into the group of first years and sorted along with them.

"I am Head of Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall. I have some rules that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has urged me to ask you to agree and sign to," said the Professor. "Nothing personal, I assure you. It's a precautionary measure. We've yet to teach a student in your condition here at Hogwarts, and we must guarantee the safety of the other students. If you'll follow me…" She gestured toward the castle, waiting for me to start walking.

_Bitch, how can I follow you if I'm in front of you?_ I thought. _And what's all this about "guaranteeing the safety of the other students"? You think I'm going to drink them dry in their sleep? I've barely had any vampire-related cravings—_

"Okay," I said hesitantly, looking behind me to wave to the guys. "See you at the ceremony." I turned to McGonagall. "Won't I?"

"I believe I caught you early enough," she said breathlessly. "Now, please, come."

I nodded and began walking toward the doors, Professor McGonagall hot on my trail. Behind me, I could hear the boys making comments like, "The things I would do to her," and "Do you think all half-vampires have asses like that?"

I wanted to scream. In canon, the Marauders could probably care less about girls. They would have spent their train ride planning new pranks to pull on Snivellus, who was supposed to be best friends with Lily, not hitting on girls. Sure, maybe in their down time they would try to catch tail. That was reasonable. But in my head, I'd always pictured them using the long ride to Hogwarts as an investment, the compartment a drawing room for new ideas of highly classified tomfoolery that they would fill Remus, performing Prefect duties, in on later in their dorm room. But then again, here I was, an "American transfer student" with impossibly giant jugs, glowing vampire color-changing eyes, flowing raven-black hair, and the personality of a brick wall. And yet everyone was kind of in love with me despite the latter.

As I walked through the castle and up the moving staircases, I noticed the portraits moving, excited by all the commotion of the students' arrival. We stopped at the Gryffindor Common Room floor, which was only supposed to have the Common Room and nothing else. But of course, the author didn't know that.

"My office is this way," said the Professor, pointing her nose forth.

_No, it's not_, I groaned in my mind. _Your office is near the Quidditch/broomstick class area. Like from the first book and movie? When you saw Harry catch the Remembrall? No? Okay._

I pretended that she had two offices so these little details wouldn't bother me as much. I had to let the author have a free pass. Not every fanfiction writer was as strict with minor details as I was. Though, to be fair to myself, adding whole rooms to the seventh floor of the castle wasn't really all that minor. It was actually kind of major. But I digress.

We walked inside, and she went around her desk to pull up the forms without wasting any time. "Have a seat if you wish. This won't take long, but the walk back downstairs very well may. Just read these through and give it your signature."

She set an open pot of black ink and a feathery quill in front of me. I nodded, bringing my eyes down to read the parchment papers scattered in front of me. I realized with exasperation that the words were blurry, as if the author of my story hadn't cared to write a real essay. A select few sentences were clear, and as I read them, I almost snorted.

_I, (blank line), do solemnly swear not to cause fear, injury, or death in my peers. I hereby agree that the burden of vampirism be kept safely at bay by the decree that no blood shall be spilled while on school grounds._

I gazed up at McGonagall, who had her hands folded together on the other side of the desk, staring at me pointedly. I made a face. Of course I didn't want to hurt anybody, even if this was a fantasy world and they weren't real. I just wasn't sure what the author was going to make me do later. I almost feared the consequences of those potential actions.

My hand went toward the quill. I dipped it into the ink pot, shaking my head, and brought it to the parchment. I signed my given name, Aria Shade, on the blank space underneath all of the text, and filled the name in print on the blank line in the paragraph with the oath. That was how those things were supposed to work, right?

"Thank you," McGonagall said, retrieving the papers. "Now, we may go."

We reached the Great Hall. I expected to make a bigger scene, but the room was buzzing with chatter, laughter, and anticipation. The Professor and I walked all the way to the long table in the back. Dumbledore was front and center, his signature beard shorter than it was in Harry's time. So was his grey hair. I stared at him intensely and saw the gaze return to me. Blue eyes sparkled behind half moon glasses. His lips curled slightly, but just as quickly as he had glanced my way, his attention turned to the Hall in general.

I looked ahead of me. There was a swarm of short little first years surrounding a stool with a ratty black hat. The Sorting Hat. I bit my lip, hoping I wouldn't have to share a bedroom with Bellatrix or Narcissa Black or—

"Attention!" said McGonagall. "Attention. The Sorting Ceremony will now begin."

The students took a minute to settle down. I stood with embarrassment next to Caroline Bludworth, feeling less ridiculous with someone my age by my side.

Caroline and I waited anxiously for all of the first years to be sorted. As each House gained a new member, cheers and applause roared proudly. As we waited, Caroline whispered small talk, which I'm pretty sure we weren't supposed to be having during something so momentous for the little first years, but I didn't tell her to stop.

"This is so weird," she said, placing a hand on her hip. Her brows furrowed, but her eyes were glued to the Hat. "My sister is obsessed with Hogwarts. Now I'm here and she's not. I wish I could tell her about it, but she would never believe me."

I stared at her sideways, confusion distorting my "perfect" features. "Your sister goes to school in America still?"

Caroline flushed, looking away. "You could say that."

I shrugged. If she was done talking about it, so was I.

"Bludworth, Caroline?" McGonagall said on cue. She patted the stool where smelly first year diaper butts had just been sitting.

As she walked toward the Hat, Caroline gave me a nervous glance, which I returned with a positive smile. I mouthed wordlessly, "Good luck."

The Hat was placed atop her head immediately after she sat down. Her eyes were wide and crisp leaf green, full of wonder. I wished I could hear what the Sorting Hat was saying to her.

Not soon before long, the Hat exclaimed, "SLYTHERIN!"

My jaw flew open and I allowed a small gasp to escape. I quickly shut it, recovering from the shock. I had to smile at her now to reassure her that everything was going to be fine. She frowned sadly at me, and all I could think about was how her first words to me were, "Woah, who's the porn star?" and decided I shouldn't have been all that astounded by her sorting.

"And finally, another exchange student from America; Shade, Aria!" said McGonagall, and I nearly froze where I stood. She just had to mention that, didn't she? McGonagall's eyes urged me forward, and I walked slowly toward the stool. I stared at the Hat before sitting down. I felt like it was smirking at me, but I was probably just imagining that bit.

I felt the light weight of it press my hair down, matting it to my head. I then heard its mysterious voice speak aloud, though I was the only one that could hear it converse.

"Aria Shade, hmm, yes. Loyal, brave, but intelligent and friendly—oh, witty and cunning. How did that get in there?" The Sorting Hat seemed genuinely surprised. Could the Hat really read my real personality, or just my character's? "I know where to put you."

It paused dramatically, and I practically fell off the edge of the stool in anticipation. It roared the House's name like thunder over cloudy skies. "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Marauders were the first three people I saw clapping. I looked to Lily, who shot a toothy grin, and then to Caroline at the Slytherin table. She was seated next to a bored-looking blonde girl and the ever-sexy Regulus Black. She smiled forcefully up at me as I took my seat, probably secretly wishing our roles were reversed.

Dumbledore's speech, blah blah blah, food is tasty, blah blah blah. Marauders are ecstatic about my House placement, blah blah blah. All the usual fanfiction first night ceremony bull crap stuff was happening. I almost took a nap in my chicken leg and Shepherd's pie, but I didn't want to seem rude.

I'll admit that it wasn't an entirely boring day overall. I thought the night was going to go in a different direction before McGonagall had me sign that oath. At least it wasn't a cliché Unbreakable Vow. That would have dampened the mood even more than the stupid pieces of paper I had to sign.

With any luck or creativity or imagination whatsoever on the author's part, I would have an eventful day of classes lined up the next morning.

Who was I kidding? My day was going to entail every single guy hitting on me as the Marauders get mad because they're supposed to be the only ones allowed to have the privilege.

_I can't wait._


End file.
